


Desperate

by zzzett



Series: SPN Kink Bingo 2016 [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Barebacking, Bottom Crowley, Episode: s11e23 Alpha and Omega, M/M, Rough Sex, Top Sam, Unsafe Sex, Wall Sex, episode coda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-12
Updated: 2016-06-12
Packaged: 2018-07-14 17:22:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7183097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zzzett/pseuds/zzzett
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is gone, and Sam is desperate. And a bit drunk. And Crowley’s slithering words are getting to him. “Stop thinking,” the demon says lowly, brushing Sam’s hand around the glass of whiskey. “Just come and take what you need, Sam. I’ll even let you be my stud.”</p><p>His head really isn’t in a healthy place right now, he decides, because he’s supposed to feel scandalized or something. He seriously shouldn’t consider the King of Hell’s offer to fornicate, especially at this time.</p><p>But, Sam is desperate. And a bit drunk.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Desperate

**Author's Note:**

> For SPN Kink Bingo 2016.
> 
> Square filled: Mooseley.

Dean is gone, and Sam is desperate. And a bit drunk. And Crowley’s slithering words are getting to him. “Stop thinking,” the demon says lowly, brushing Sam’s hand around the glass of whiskey. “Just come and take what you need, Sam. I’ll even let you be my stud.”

Sam drags his head around to meet the suggestive gaze, his own eyes squinted with suspicion. Or exhaustion. His head really isn’t in a healthy place right now, he decides, because he’s supposed to feel scandalized or something. He seriously shouldn’t consider the King of Hell’s offer to fornicate, especially at this time.

But, Sam is desperate. And a bit drunk.

“Why?” he slurs, because no amount of foggy headstate or inner suffering can dampen his curious nature. He doesn’t trust Crowley as much as Dean does- _did_ , but he can’t really sense an ulterior motive from the demon at the moment. What gain is there in getting fucked by a shattered Sam Winchester? 

Crowley rolls his eyes. “If you want me to say _‘you’re my friend and I don’t like seeing you in pain,’_ fine. But it’s much bloody simpler than that, moose. I want your cock. I’ve wanted your cock for years. Now is as good a time as any.”

Sam is a little startled by the confession, but not as uncomfortable as he perhaps should be. He at least still has the sense to glance behind in caution; thankfully, Castiel and Rowena are too preoccupied with Chuck to notice the inappropriate chatter.

“Well.” Crowley turns on his stool. “You have two minutes to decide.” Then he gets off and walks away to the bathroom.

*

Two minutes turn to five and there’s no moose in sight. 

Crowley sighs at his reflection in the mirror, hands in his pockets. “Your loss,” he mutters and makes his way to the door.

Only, it’s thrown open before he reaches it and a giant body crashes with his own, hungry lips seeking out his. Sam consumes the demon’s surprised grunt, pushing him up against the wall and pretty much devours him until Crowley relents. Relaxing against Sam, he opens up and kisses back with equal fervor that only a spawn of Hell can possess.

But Hell also runs in the Boy’s veins, and he’s desperate. A bit drunk, too.

“B-Bollocks..!” Crowley gasps the moment he can take a breath from Sam’s mouth, while the hunter passes his assault onto his jaw, sucking and nibbling his way onto his scruffy cheekbone to his ear. Giant hands tug on the dark overcoat and rip it off the demon’s shoulders, grabbing his tie before the outer garment can fall to the floor. Crowley’s own hands reach for Sam’s jacket, but are harshly grabbed and pinned to the wall.

“Ow! Well- alright…” His voice is shaking now as the Winchester feasts on his neck, holding him tight and still. Crowley can throw him off, of course; he can use the human to break a wall, but god, _why would he?_ Sam feels so good against him, so big and deadly strong for a mortal; it’s all the demon has imagined and more. His meatsuit will be marked up so pretty.

He doesn’t dare to move even when Sam lets go of his hands to tug his tie off. Too many layers on the way, and the hunter is out of patience; he fucking _growls_ against Crowley’s neck and starts downright tearing at the remaining clothes, seeking out skin like a man dying of thirst. The demon cries out in protest at his expensive buttons flying off, but Sam hardly seems to care; he doesn’t even let Crowley help, biting his ear in warning when his hands try to get in the way.

Crowley realizes that the hunter doesn’t care what he can or will give him; he’s only going to _take_ , with blood and sweat if necessary. Sweet Sammy is projecting all his frustration and grief into violence, and it’s the hottest thing the King of Hell has seen in this century.

This is going to hurt so good.

By the time Sam manages to reach naked skin, he’s humping Crowley and _oh_ well… He’s just earned his nicknames all over again. The demon groans at the feeling and starts to put his powers to good use, working the human’s belt and zipper off with no hands as Sam is aggressively marking up his chest, biting his nipples with a grudge. Crowley tugs on his hair to pull him up for a kiss while both their pants and underwear are dropped.

That goddamn horsecock is brushing against his now, and a strong hand starts kneading the globe of his ass impatiently- Crowley groans profanities into Sam’s mouth, and maybe he’s desperate now too. Sam breaks the kiss to suck on his long fingers, but the demon pulls his hair again to stop their descent to his ass. 

“Damn it moose, I’m ready, I’m always ready- fucking give it to me now!”

The Winchester growls again, but is more than happy to oblige; he uses his spit to slick his already wet cock and grabs Crowley’s thigh- _both thighs_ , lifting him up with a grunt and pushing in. 

_Bloodyheavenandhell._ This just marks the day that the King of Hell is closest to singing hallelujah. 

This boy, this _mortal genetic freak_ is holding him up like he weighs nothing, and shortly he’s railing him against the wall like an animal, huffing and grunting into his neck. The stretch feels endless, forcing the limits of Crowley’s meatsuit and he _loves it_ , he should’ve found Sam all those times Dean died before...

Arms and legs wrapped tightly around Sam, Crowley throws his head back against the wall and lets it go, moaning unashamed as if there isn’t an angel and his mom and freaking God in the next room. Everything hurts, everything burns, everything is _so fucking good_ he can come like this, oh of course he can- except a giant hand grips him like a vice and starts jerking harshly alongside the thrusts. 

Give it to Sam Winchester to be the most considerate animal to fuck a demon. 

Crowley is crashed through the edge so hard he can feel his eyes flashing red, and later he won’t be ashamed to admit how he screamed. Sam’s motion stutters with the clenching around him and he follows shortly, howling into the wall as he fills Crowley for all his worth.

They both still then, harsh gasps echoing through the tiles and Sam’s come dripping onto the floor from where he remains softening inside the demon. After a few minutes, he pulls out and lets Crowley down gently, but doesn’t exactly let go of him, face still buried in Crowley’s neck. It’s a bit awkward as the world is clearing. 

“That was fun,” Crowley huffs out, his voice a little weak. “A bit unsafe, but I’m sure we’re both clean, moose.”

Sam makes a small sound against his neck, his large bulk shuddering in a beat and Crowley feels a distinct wetness at his collar.

_Oh, bloody hell._

This goliath that has just screwed his brains out is now breaking down on him; the palms on his naked thighs have traveled up to his back and Sam is basically clinging to him now, to the freaking King of Hell. His shaking intensifies, forehead on the demon’s shoulder and rapidly soaking him with his growing sobs.

This isn’t Crowley’s job. This is the exact opposite of Crowley’s job, but he still finds himself reaching up gingerly to hold Sam back- the human hugs him even tighter at the gesture, seemingly shrinking despite his size.

And the demon’s astounded that he’s now holding this pathetic giant man-child to him, stroking his hair and letting him cry his heart out. Even more astounded that this should feel more unnatural, and not like taking care of something an old friend left behind.

“I’m sorry, Sam,” he murmurs into the long hair, “for all it’s worth.”


End file.
